Breakfast at Red Hook Diner and Departure From the Hudson Valley

I awoke Sunday morning with very few things on my agenda. The main one being breakfast at the Red Hook diner. Just as I was packing up, the entire building suddenly went berserk. And by that I mean a fire alarm sounded and kept sounding. I took a look around the hall and heard no screams nor smelled no smoke, so I just went back to packing up and texting K. and C. about their availability for an early morning breakfast. Eventually all my gear was packed and I proceeded towards the exit closest to the parking lot where my car was located. I guess most folks took the fire alarm far more seriously, including the fireman who held the door open for me and a gaggle of my former classmates, some of whom were in pajamas and draped with blankets. C. and K. were also there and it was decided that we would just get on with it and go to breakfast. This was a very good move on our part. The Red Hook Diner is basically the place to be on any given morning, but especially a weekend morning, and on a reunion/graduation weekend? Come 11 AM that place is packed and you're lucky if you don't have to wait 20 to 30 minutes. We, however, waited about two minutes before getting a spot. When something works you just keep going with it, and the diner's 2 eggs/meat/potatoes/bottomless coffee meal definitely works. And my preferred combo always was (and probably always will be) two poached eggs with the deep fried version of potatoes and sausage links. It was everything I wanted it to be. EVERYTHING.

The diner is right next to the building where K. and I both spent about two years post-graduation. In the two bottom apartments. Those were some transitional years for sure, going from student to semi-kind-of-almost adults. And we both left at the same time too, with K. moving to NYC to attend grad school while I moved on to Chicago, also to attend grad school. And here we were about eight years later.

After that it was pretty much the usual getting out of a place. I tried to track down S. who still had my jacket, but wasn't able to get in touch with him and didn't feel like rambling around aimlessly until I heard from him. So we all dropped off our respective dorm keys, got into our respective wheels and drove off from Bard's campus. I crossed the Kingston bridge and the sun was finally coming out and the way it played on the water and mountains was something to see. Unfortunately you can't really see because I was driving while randomly clicking my camera's shutter. Never a very effective method for really good photos.

But you can't say I didn't try.

And that about wraps up the 10th year reunion of the Bard Class of 2003. The majority of my fears were unfounded and it was quite nice to see some of the faces that I wouldn't otherwise see in the course of my everyday life. Good work all around. Though I hope the next reunion I attend will feature warmer weather.

Breakfast and Juice c/o Greenman Bistro

Friday night ended late but the majority of us were up and getting ourselves together by 9. LX and I went out in search of juice/smoothies and ended up sitting down on the porch of Greenman Juice Bar and Bistro to satiate both the juice need we started out with and the egg sandwich that developed as we walked. I can't find their juice menu online, but I chose the juice that included carrot, pineapple, orange and at least one other fruit juices. It was delightful and gave me new power in life.

I chose the egg and cheese sandwich on ciabatta with turkey sausage. It looked great, but I can't say it was quite amazing. The eggs seemed possibly microwaved and the sausage wasn't all that spectacular either. My thought on the spot is that it would be great for a juice or a coffee, but maybe not worth the time or money for actual grub.

Then a bunch of us got ourselves together and went to the beach. This was quite a different scene than my usual Delaware beach time. So many people it was mind boggling. BC grabbed a nice spot and an umbrella, which we then spread around. The water was packed with folks. You couldn't go a foot without running into another body so infinite amounts of floating wasn't really an ideal activity. It was still good to hang out with LB and her assorted ladies, most of whom will join me as bridesmaids in her wedding.

Bagels and Beach Scenes

Friday morning I awoke with the warmth. While the days were entirely lovely - not too hot, not too cool - the nights got a wee bit cooler than I had anticipated and the one sheet I brought coupled with jeans and a sweatshirt left to slight shiverings in the night hours, which caused me to close up the tent's inner and outer 'doors' to prevent additional breezes. This, in turn, led to quite a warm wake up once the sun got in the air and began to make its presence known on my nylon fortress. So. In any case. I awoke and was soon off to forage a little breakfast on Route 1. On the way down I had noticed Surf Bagel's large sign and thought that it seemed like a promising place to seek out my first meal of the day. I wasn't wrong. I enjoyed the everything bagel, toasted with scallion cream cheese. It was not revolutionary. It was not the best bagel of my life. But it was beyond serviceable. Or should I say surfbagelable? Ugh.

After breakfast and a little reading in the tent, which I had reopened for better cross ventilation, I began the .75 mile walk to the beach. On the way I noted this cactus flower in full bloom and this wasp-ish thing enjoying its pollen center.

By about the same time the next day this flower had shriveled to nothing. I'm glad I took the time to photograph it while it was in its prime. A sentiment I have about myself from time to time when looking at photos from my college days.

The beach. It was nicely uncrowded and a fair breeze kept me not too terribly hot even with the sun beating down. I must admit that I didn't see others swimming and the waves looked rough, so I did no more than get thigh-high in the waters a few times. In fact, even on the next day when the waves were less ominous I didn't go all the way in. I'm a decent swimmer with a pragmatic view towards the likelihood of shark death, but being alone I had to worry that no one would really be looking out for me in the unlikely event that I began to drown or get carried away in a rip tide (go with the tide, swim parallel to the beach til you get out...right?). This sense of caution prevented me from fully enjoying the swimming element of the beach, but the crisp coldness of the water balanced with long stretches in the sun and breeze...well that wasn't so bad. 

Far, far down you can make out the main bath house where the majority of day visitors pitch their various beach encampments. I was glad to be away from so many throngs of folks.

Unfortunately I can report zero dolphin sightings. Hopefully if I get to return in August they'll be in better moods to entertain me with their existence.

Breakfast c/o German Village Coffee Shop

On Monday we woke up on the early side then K. and I drove to German Village for breakfast. I think we went to German Village Coffee House. But I need to double check that with K. It's a nice spot that I can imagine gets quite busy/packed on weekends - K. and A. said that there is usually a considerable line on those days. Mondays, however, are fairly low key. We didn't have to wait and quickly got seated with cups of coffee soon in our hands. I chose to go with two eggs, sausage and hashbrowns. All good.
After breakfast we returned to K.'s house and I packed up my stuff and got on the road. On my way into town I had noticed signs for Dillon Dam and decided that on my way back I'd take some back roads and stop there to see what there was to see. Ohio is much hillier than you might think. Or maybe you wouldn't think that and know that it's hilly. In any case, the drive was lovely. A sunny day. Flowers and buds out on most all the trees. The dam itself was what it was. Made me want to go fishing a little.
I'm noticing that I don't keep the camera level when I take photos these days. It's kind of embarrassing. A seriously nice day.
A seriously wonky angle.
After this, I drove on back roads for a bit more before finally getting back on 70 and then 76. I tried to find somewhere interesting to eat lunch. Or a Taco Bell. But didn't find either. This was better for my health, but a little disappointing...road trips are the perfect excuse for fast food.

Breakfast at DK Diner and Read This Book

The next morning we awoke in varying stages of a hangover, which we decided to overcome through breakfast at DK Diner. So we got ourselves mobile, picked up K.'s friend A., and got down to the business at hand. DK Diner is a pretty small space with about maybe eight or so booths, chairs along the windows and three or so tables. It's a 'pick your own mug and get your own coffee place,' which I generally enjoy though it seems to be so popular that you inevitably seem to have to step over babies in carrying cases and avoid rogue toddlers to get from your seat to the coffee. It seems that the spot used to be only about donuts, but that over time and a switch in owners, it's now a go-to breakfast/lunch spot as well as donut mecca.
I was torn between going my usual breakfast route of two eggs and sausage links and branching out to one of DK's more esoteric combinations of pretty much the same thing. In the end I chose the path of gluttony and ordered the DK Skillet, which was an open faced omelet piled high with potatoes, sausage and cheese, which was then covered in sausage gravy. I know, I know, the state of my arteries is nothing if not constantly on my mind. This was an ooey gooey mess, but tasty. Maybe a little heavier a meal than I really needed. The gravy was a cut above some diner gravy for sure, and the cheese was properly melty. No complaints. Everyone else's breakfast looked equally good. I'd love to go back, order a simpler breakfast and maybe a donut to boot. I think A., A. and I felt relatively revived by our meals. K. didn't fare quite as well and needed a nice nap to fully recuperate. So after breakfast we parted ways; K. going home for a nap while I zoomed off to German Village for some quality time at the Book Loft.
There are about three constant places in my memories of visiting Ohio with my mother. The first is my aunt and uncle's house, the second is the Book Loft, and then there's COSI. The Book Loft is a sprawling building chock full of books at pretty decent prices. It really is a warren with three floors worth of wares, laid out so that there are twists and turns, rooms that feel like secret finds, different music piping into to different sections and just so many books in a much homier and true atmosphere than, say, Barnes and Noble. As a kid I could literally become lost while exploring the books on puppies, bird migration, religion, celebrity, crochet, and of course fiction and military history. This trip I was generally able to navigate around in a purposeful manner, though I enjoyed getting slightly turned around when looking for the fiction section, as this made actually finding the section more of a feat of accomplishment.
At one point I was carrying around six or seven books, but in the end I curtailed my spend-money ways and chose to abandon my Jasper Fforde and Margaret Maron books in favor of buying Carry the One, by Carol Anshaw. Carol was a particularly meaningful and good professor during my time at SAIC. She was a great teacher, wonderful conversationalist and, also, by the bye, a ridiculously good writer. So I bought her book on a Friday, and in between the family meals and activities and playing with kids and dying eggs and hiding eggs, I managed to finish the book by Sunday. This is a testament to the story's ability to take hold and insist I know what happened to all the characters as soon as possible. What I'm trying to say, in other words, is to go out and buy the book.
Once my purchase was made I got back into my car and drove along one of the smaller alley/roads of the German Village area, all brick and cobbled, all bumpy and teeth rattling. It was a beautiful day. Sunny, relatively warm, flowers out. Good stuff. Then I drove home not using any freeway and saw how quickly Columbus, like most cities, can go from a rather prosperous neighborhood to a markedly not prosperous one and then back again.

Danish Magic c/o Tivoli Bread & Baking

Like I said yesterday, my shearing day actually began with a stop at Tivoli Bread & Baking Co. I made myself a cup of coffee, breached the counter and hung out with M. the Baker in the back for a while. He showed me some of his new creations, such as these lovely not-yet-baked blueberry cheesey danishes. M. was looking quite trim after a summer, fall and winter of taking better care of himself, so we discussed his workout regime a little bit, as well as something science-y that I only barely understood.
Soon it became time to leave the always cozy and companionable bakery and wend my way through the curvaceous backroads of the Red Hook/Tivoli area. As I drove I bit into this danish and each time I actually moaned over how good it was. Go there. Eat it.
And here are a few shots I took before the shearing got down to business. This is a sheep that has learned that if you're friendly with the humans, they may give you treats.

And even if you don't have treats, she'll give you multiple opportunities to think twice or pat her on her head.

Brunch c/o White Dog Cafe

Earlier in the week, Mr. Ass let me know that EF was going to be in town. He didn't really give me much of a head's up, so I already had my dinner and concert plans set. But she and I conversed on Saturday morning and determined that brunch on Sunday was the thing to do. I suggested White Dog Cafe, as I had heard it had a decent brunch but had never checked it out myself. I wasn't overly surprised that the brunch I thought would be just the two of us quickly morphed into the two of us, her two siblings, her parents and her grandmother. That is simply how EF seems to roll: with a family entourage. But they're an entertaining bunch, and I've spent a fair amount of time in their company, so really it was just like a strange family reunion, except I wasn't actually a member of the family. I deliberated between the egg hoagie and the eggs benedict and, no big surprise, I went with the benedict after much hemming and hawing.
This was a pretty good version. Eggs had nice solid whites but the yolk still oozed. The English muffin on which they were served held up well and remained a little bit crispy even with the Hollandaise and yolk. I wouldn't say the Hollandaise itself was all that memorable, nor the potatoes. I believe I enjoyed the vinaigrette on the little side salad that accompanied it. A lovely time seeing the F clan. Thank you for the meal!

Breakfast Sandwich c/o One Shot Coffee

A few weekends back I drove over to L.'s neighborhood, picked her up, then we drove on to the main Northern Liberties strip for coffee at One Shot Coffee. Except I ordered a bacon, egg, and cheese sandwich on a house made cheddar cheese and chive biscuit as a meal, and an earl grey latte as my drink. So no coffee for me. Coffee for L. though. It was nice to catch up. L. has had a number of quite big life things happen over the last month or two, and between our schedules we haven't had much time to actually see each other and talk about all the big things.
The sandwich was good, though I wondered how they made their eggs. I still, from time to time, remember how we made egg sandwiches at the coffee house I worked at during college, and shudder (it involved plastic and a microwave).
A good catch-up and meal, I particularly enjoyed the earl grey latte.

Dim Sum c/o Good Fortune

Our last adventure in Maryland brought us to Good Fortune for dim sum. We were there quite early, but that only meant that the fried food was hot and crispy as opposed to slightly tepid after hours on a cart. We tried most of the standard things and a few newbies.
Meat and things.
Taro! Such a strangely pleasing mass of starch.
Good eating.
Dad left from Wheaton while I returned to the house with the T.s because I hadn't wanted to leave many of my new gifts in a car. As we pulled in we all had the collective moment of 'oh, well there's Milo the dog on the front porch ... wait a second, why is Milo the dog on the front porch!' It's a good thing he's straight up geriatric these days, as he was free of leash and could have done any number of dangerous unattended things. Luckily it seems like he probably just lay in the sun wondering what had happened to his collective owners' minds.
A great and deeply felt thank you goes to the whole T. clan. To B. for her great attitude and hosting abilities, to D. for his cooking prowess (not that B. isn't a good cook), and to R. for his affable nature. It was a great weekend and I'm so glad Dad and I were a part of it. Also thanks goes to all who gifted me presents for my b-day!

Omelet c/o Cafe Estelle

Last Sunday I met up with BC and L. for breakfast at Cafe Estelle. This time around I chose to go with their fontina, broccoli and bacon omelet. I liked the thick little bits of bacon and the extra flavor of the fontina. It was nice, too, to chat with L. and BC. Good stuff.

Fried Chicken Sandwich c/o Smith Canteen

On Saturday we all slept in. Eventually L., J. and I went to Smith Canteen for breakfast-like foodstuffs. In fact, we were particularly motivated to get ourselves egg sandwiches of some kind. Unfortunately the canteen stops with the breakfast at 11, and it was noon. So we all had to recaliber our hunger to meet the place's menu. I ordered a latte.
And a fried chicken sandwich. We sat at a nearby park while enjoying the sun and warmer weather. The sandwich was pretty good, though I kept thinking that it was just a fancy version of a McChicken sandwich. Like, really, it tasted really good but in that same Mcway. Mmmmmm.
After breakfast/lunch (not brunch really), J. went her own way and I gathered my stuff before getting on the road. A whirlwind New York trip that took less than 24 hours to complete. Crazy. Happy birthday to L!

Eggs Moishe c/o Cafe Estelle

On the Sunday after our oyster bonanza, L. and I had serious plans. Well, sort of. First I woke up and did a little work at the office. Then we rallied ourselves and went to Cafe Estelle for breakfast. I had long been meaning to check this place out, and I'm glad that I finally had an out of town friend to accompany me. This place is in a weird place. By that I mean it's under an apartment building away from any real area of commerce. The Northern Liberties strip isn't far, but it's not really a place you'd just come across - you have to be there on purpose. The waitresses were all cute waifs with bangs and boots and pretty dresses. The coffee is self serve, but tasty. And the menu was serious. It was a very serious menu with all sorts of things I wanted to eat. In the end I was debating between shirred eggs with mushrooms and spinach and the brunch special "Eggs Moishe." In the end I went the way of the Moishe: two poached eggs on some kind of herb lattke with gravlax and a caper dill hollandaise sauce.
It was to my liking, yes it was. L. went with a frittata, which was huge. I want to go back and try so many other things!

McDonalds Biscuit

The morning after my long night out (which really and truly included perhaps permanent damage to the back of my heels...though really, it'll be fine) I was in dire need of a sandwich. I was also in dire need of buying toilet paper for the apartment and a few other key living items. So while I wanted to have a leisurely and greasy breakfast at some lovely dining establishment, what I ended up with -rather happily- was a sausage, egg and cheese from McDonalds. Was it the best sandwich ever? Of course not. But did it do the trick almost perfectly? Pretty much.

Have you noticed the new layout of the blog? What do you think? It's 'dynamic' which means you can choose how you see it...see those options above, to the sort of left? If I could control it then you'd only have the option of 'Magazine' as I like how that looks best, but the other ways are kind of interesting too.

Rittenhouse Square Art Show/Farmers Market and Breakfast c/o Parc

Last Saturday I walked on down to Rittenhouse Square to take a look at this year's Fine Art Show, and to see what the farmers were selling. I got down there early enough in the day that one could still navigate the packed sidewalks without completely losing their minds.
I did a quick walk around half of the booths that were open and arty before deciding to enjoy a slightly overpriced breakfast at Parc. The art show was a big enough deal that they blocked off a piece of the street and Parc and another restaurant expanded their sidewalk tables right into the street. I still got a table under the awning, but by the time I finished my meal people were beginning to be seated in the spillover section.
I chose to go with the two eggs any style with sausage. The eggs were really pretty took look at, but not 100% awesome. I don't know what they use to keep the whites together (generally it's vinegar I think, but these eggs didn't have that taste to them) but the result was a slightly rubbery white. The yolks were oozy and good, but the strange consistence of the whites threw me off a little.
The sausage was juicy, the bread fluffy and the potatoes hearty.
Not a bad way to start a day. I ended up buying a small print of a blue bird that I will eventually get framed and hang somewhere, though for the time being it has just added to the ridiculous lack of order that constitutes my room. I am on the verge of not becoming a hoarder per se, but some sort of person who has given up on the concept of order. I need a paper shredder. And a maid.

Morning Time

C., Mr Ass and I camped on the site I had reserved while C. and J. and K. camped on their own site and K. had her own site as well. In the morning - hmm there are too many C's and K's. Let's call my friend and pizza/wine C. C.P. and let's call friend from college C. C.S. and college K. K.H. then J. can be J. and K. can be K. I'm glad we worked all of that out. Anywho. In the morning C.P. and I awoke around the same time. She promptly readied herself for a run while I began eying a box of garlic Triscuits for breakfast. Later on Mr Ass also got up and though it wasn't even 9 in the morning, we began a game of Scrabble. Meanwhile C.S. and J. were having a little time in their hammock. I took a photograph or two, but either I focused poorly or they had multiple chins.
The view of my campsite from C.S., K.H. and J.'s perspective.
Mr. Ass played admirably, but was ultimately defeated.
More of the bounty that C.S., K.H., K. and J. picked up at the farm stand.
After C.P. returned from her run, she, Mr. Ass and I got into Mr. Ass's car and drove to Dunkin Donuts. I ordered myself a coffee and since it was my *birthday* I felt I was entitled to eat my first egg sandwich from Dunkin Donuts since my college years. Strange thing-ish: except for one African American teenager, the entire Dunkin Donuts staff was made up of young men and women from some Eastern European country. I don't know which one, but I'm sure of that. It made me wonder if they were there legally, and if they all were somehow related. A mystery that I'm sure someone could easily solve.